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Authors: Josh Hoffner Brian Skoloff
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liked the name Iris for a girl…If I ever have a son I’ll
name him Alexander,” she wrote in her diary.
On the whole, Jodi did quite well handling the situation and moving on, or at least
making it look that way.
Her mother said the death of Travis brought her and Jodi closer, and she was finally
starting to see positive changes in her daughter.
Maybe there was a silver lining to all of this, her mother thought.
“Just this last couple weeks since Travis’ death has been the best relations that
we’ve had in our whole life,” Sandy Arias would later say during questioning by police.
“Maybe this death has made her see that life is short and you can’t be that way. And
it’s changing her.”
At the same time, Jodi was also playing the role of sleuth. She would call Flores
to get updates on the investigation and offer up stories that puzzled him.
She would leave him casual voicemails on his mobile phone.
“Hi Detective Flores, this is Jodi Arias calling in regard to Travis Alexander,”
she said in one message. “It’s Saturday, not exactly sure what time, maybe you’re
off. I hope you’re enjoying your day off. If you could give me a call back, my phone
number is 831-402-1909.”
As she was leaving her message, forensic experts were analyzing the evidence. On
June 26, the reports came back: The bloody palm print on the wall was Jodi’s. One
week later, on July 3, the DNA samples taken from the scene matched up to Jodi.
A few weeks earlier, Jodi and Travis’ other friends voluntarily provided police saliva
samples for DNA comparisons.
Flores shared his findings with the Maricopa County Attorney’s office, and prosecutors
presented the case to a grand jury.
The panel indicted Jodi on July 9, 2008, the same day she celebrated her 28th birthday.
It was now time to take Jodi into custody.
Jodi was at her grandparents’ three-bedroom house when Mesa police Department joined
by deputies with the Siskiyou County Sheriff’s Department showed up and slapped the
cuffs on her.
Jodi was under arrest.
Chapter 13 'I Don't Even Hurt Spiders'
Chapter 13
“I Don’t Even Hurt Spiders”
“I think you’re not grasping the reality of the situation.” —Detective Rachel Blaney
of the Siskiyou County Sheriff’s Department
The date was July 15, 2008. It was the culmination of the most tumultuous period
of Jodi’s life.
In the span of 45 days, she had killed her lover in gruesome fashion, skipped town,
hooked up with a new guy, mourned the loss of Alexander, even sent his family condolence
cards.
Now she was in a nondescript interrogation room in Yreka. Most people are nervous
in this situation, rattled by the mere sight of handcuffs on their wrists, fearful
about their life being shattered once the authorities figure out what they did.
But Jodi seemed to have different coping mechanisms. She tried small talk with a
female officer, asking where she was from Arizona. Then she complained about the temperature
in the room. It’s too cold, she said. She wondered where her purse was.
Here she was, locked up for what could be an eternity, and Jodi begged Flores for
a sweater and inquired about her handbag.
“Any way you can turn the heat up in here or like, do you have a sweater I can borrow
or something?” she asked Flores.
“I don’t have any sweaters,” he shot back.
They had a few back-and-forths that were fairly routine for police interrogations,
and then Flores laid down the gauntlet.
“Everybody is saying, I don’t understand what happened to Travis. I don’t know who
killed him. But you need to look at Jodi. And sometimes the simplest answers are the
correct ones. And that’s one of the reasons I started looking at you a little bit
closer and over the last month or so I’ve gotten into Travis’ lives, talked to all
his friends, his family. I got a really good understanding of who he is now. And I
got a very good
name him Alexander,” she wrote in her diary.
On the whole, Jodi did quite well handling the situation and moving on, or at least
making it look that way.
Her mother said the death of Travis brought her and Jodi closer, and she was finally
starting to see positive changes in her daughter.
Maybe there was a silver lining to all of this, her mother thought.
“Just this last couple weeks since Travis’ death has been the best relations that
we’ve had in our whole life,” Sandy Arias would later say during questioning by police.
“Maybe this death has made her see that life is short and you can’t be that way. And
it’s changing her.”
At the same time, Jodi was also playing the role of sleuth. She would call Flores
to get updates on the investigation and offer up stories that puzzled him.
She would leave him casual voicemails on his mobile phone.
“Hi Detective Flores, this is Jodi Arias calling in regard to Travis Alexander,”
she said in one message. “It’s Saturday, not exactly sure what time, maybe you’re
off. I hope you’re enjoying your day off. If you could give me a call back, my phone
number is 831-402-1909.”
As she was leaving her message, forensic experts were analyzing the evidence. On
June 26, the reports came back: The bloody palm print on the wall was Jodi’s. One
week later, on July 3, the DNA samples taken from the scene matched up to Jodi.
A few weeks earlier, Jodi and Travis’ other friends voluntarily provided police saliva
samples for DNA comparisons.
Flores shared his findings with the Maricopa County Attorney’s office, and prosecutors
presented the case to a grand jury.
The panel indicted Jodi on July 9, 2008, the same day she celebrated her 28th birthday.
It was now time to take Jodi into custody.
Jodi was at her grandparents’ three-bedroom house when Mesa police Department joined
by deputies with the Siskiyou County Sheriff’s Department showed up and slapped the
cuffs on her.
Jodi was under arrest.
Chapter 13 'I Don't Even Hurt Spiders'
Chapter 13
“I Don’t Even Hurt Spiders”
“I think you’re not grasping the reality of the situation.” —Detective Rachel Blaney
of the Siskiyou County Sheriff’s Department
The date was July 15, 2008. It was the culmination of the most tumultuous period
of Jodi’s life.
In the span of 45 days, she had killed her lover in gruesome fashion, skipped town,
hooked up with a new guy, mourned the loss of Alexander, even sent his family condolence
cards.
Now she was in a nondescript interrogation room in Yreka. Most people are nervous
in this situation, rattled by the mere sight of handcuffs on their wrists, fearful
about their life being shattered once the authorities figure out what they did.
But Jodi seemed to have different coping mechanisms. She tried small talk with a
female officer, asking where she was from Arizona. Then she complained about the temperature
in the room. It’s too cold, she said. She wondered where her purse was.
Here she was, locked up for what could be an eternity, and Jodi begged Flores for
a sweater and inquired about her handbag.
“Any way you can turn the heat up in here or like, do you have a sweater I can borrow
or something?” she asked Flores.
“I don’t have any sweaters,” he shot back.
They had a few back-and-forths that were fairly routine for police interrogations,
and then Flores laid down the gauntlet.
“Everybody is saying, I don’t understand what happened to Travis. I don’t know who
killed him. But you need to look at Jodi. And sometimes the simplest answers are the
correct ones. And that’s one of the reasons I started looking at you a little bit
closer and over the last month or so I’ve gotten into Travis’ lives, talked to all
his friends, his family. I got a really good understanding of who he is now. And I
got a very good
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